Moments In Time
by mockingjaylover98
Summary: An array of one shots based off The Hunger Games trilogy and its many different characters. And some moments that were lightly touched on. Different perspectives. Read and Review.
1. Chapter 1: Mr & Mrs Everdeen

**A/N: **Hi! Thank you for dropping by and reading my new story! I don't have an exact plan, but this fan fic will be updated soon. I'm juggling "Glass Hearts" also. So, enjoy this first chapter! And the next chapter will be a different story, probably relating to Katniss and Peeta. Enjoy! And don't forget to review! (Also, if you're coming from my other story, "Glass Hearts" thank you for reading this one also, it means a lot!)

-Joy

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His dark, wide olive hands swept over her small pale ones and she gave him a shy, nervous smile as he handed her the notebook she dropped in the school hallway. The Everdeen boy always made her nervous, in this addictive kind of way. The way someone would feel before their birthday or Christmas. Scratching at the surface of her being. Waiting to burst open.

"Thanks," she said, quietly. Her eyes fleeting toward his, only to land on the floor quickly afterwards.

"You're welcome," He said, offering a polite smile and treading off into the school yard.

She and the Everdeen boy never spoke much. Just shared glances in school. They knew each other's names and that was about it. She always hoped he would speak to her one day. She was too nervous to speak to him herself.

Her parents didn't approve of her being around Seam kids. Her parents liked the Mellark boy. He was a gentleman. Wanted a family and grow up to run a family bakery. That was his dream. She and the Mellark boy talked often. He would make his confessions of love to her when he got the courage. She nodded and tried not to offend him. She loved him, but that was a long time ago. She fell in love with his charm, and then quickly ran away from her feelings when he talked about wanting to marry her someday. His quickening pace of the future made her nervous. He wanted to stay in 12 all of his life. Not do anything spontaneous and mad. She wanted to see outside of 12 before settling down.

She and the Mellark boy were always surrounded with friends. They were that couple of the school. It was only right that they were. Both of their parents were shopkeepers and they both inherited the looks of the town children. Blonde, blue-eyed, and pale. He always was nice to her, gave her a kiss on the cheek when they arrived in school. He carried her books and walked her home. But he caught her watching the Everdeen boy sitting alone at his table, and he saw the smile that crawled on her lips when he would walk past. And he knew she didn't feel the same for him. And she told the 17 year - old Mellark boy so. That she didn't feel the same way. She wanted space and freedom. She didn't want to be bogged down by District 12.

But, she hoped every summer that neither one of the boys would be reaped. She fidgeted with her hands on that hot summer day. Anxiety ripping her heart out of her chest. She cared for the Mellark boy as a friend, and didn't want to see him forced in an arena; he didn't derserve it. But she desperately pleaded with fate that the Everdeen boy's name wouldn't be pulled from that glass bowl. She didn't want anyone to go into that wretched game. But the chances we're higher that summer. It was the 50th Hunger Games, which meant it was the 2nd Quarter Quell. Double the tributes go into the arena. And she almost doubled over in heartache when one of her best friends, Maysilee Donner, was reaped. She held her tight when they were allowed three minutes for their goodbyes. Her eyes resting on the gold pendent that sat on her breezy light green dress. Her token from home. A symbol of a mockingjay. She promised Maysilee that she would come home. She told her she would be waiting for the Victor's train.

She wiped her tears from her face as the men in white forced her to leave. Walking down the hallway of the Justice Building to find the black-haired, olive-skinned Everdeen boy twisting his palms. A nervous expression written on his features.

"Did someone you know get reaped?" Her nervousness faded. She was too numb knowing her friend was about to be forced in an arena she may never come out of. She kept optimistic, the best she could.

He nodded and exhaled as he sat down on one of the steel benches. She brushed the back of her dress down as she sat beside him. Being closer to him than she had since she first saw him. She kept her gazed locked on her lap and waited for him to speak.

"Do you know Haymitch?" he asked, turning his head to meet her gaze. She looked up and shook her head. She didn't associate with Seam kids.

"I knew him a little. I knew we were both from the Seam." he said, forcing his eyes back on the wall. "I hate this," he whispered. Dropping his gaze to the floor and exhaling.

"Me too." The blonde 16 - year old girl said.

The Victor's train didn't arrive with her friend as a passenger. The seam boy, Haymitch Abernathy, did come home. He came back different, though. Afraid to speak to people. He blocked out the world and stopped attending school. She didn't hear of him after the return of the train. She cried for weeks. She watched her friend die. But she was thankful the Seam boy was there when she died. That comforted her.

Maysilee's parents gave her a song bird. She kept it in remembrance of Maysilee.

The Mellark boy tried to comfort her when her downcasted face arrived at school in the mornings. She shrugged him off and he tried not to bother her.

But it was when she folded her books in her bag and trekked out to the school yard, the Mellark boy offering to carry her books, she declined. The Everdeen boy caught her gaze. He gave her a shake of his head, gesturing her to follow him and they walked out of the school yard together. The nervousness of being around him, returned and she focused on his shoulders as he walked in front of her.

He was much taller than her. At least six inches. His straight black hair and olive skin. The muscles in his shoulders swayed as he swung his arms back and forth. And he had to shake her out of her concentration. He was pointing toward a barbwire fence that lead to the woods and she stared for a moment, her mouth agape.

"We can't go to the woods," she said, wondering why he brought her down here. But she didn't refuse. He just nudged her elbow and helped her through the fence. She felt trapped by rules and laws and she felt free from them around the Everdeen boy. She was slowly falling in love with his every move, and she was okay with that.

She had never been in the woods before. It was illegal. But he lead her down a path that was familiar to his feet and they sat down on a fallen tree log.

"I'm really sorry about your friend." He whispered, giving her a sad smile as he tore leaves apart and threw them on the ground.

"Me too. It wasn't fair." She said. Thinking about all the times she and Maysilee shared. She cringed for a moment, missing her friend.

He suddenly whistled and looked up into the trees. And the mockingjays returned his call. She stared in amazement at the birds. And dropped her gaze back to him. A twinkle in his dark grey eyes. He chuckled under his breath and she smiled slightly.

"Are you and the Mellark kid going steady?" He asked, not looking at her. He moved around the forest and grabbed a small twig and plopped down again to draw in the dirt.

The answer was no, they weren't going steady. But she tried to hide her true emotions. Her love for this Seam boy who she would never be allowed to see. How she knew she had broken the Mellark boy's heart.

"No," was all she said. Flatly.

"Oh," he said.

She nodded and twiddled with the ends of her long blonde waves. She sat on the log and he sat by her feet. Staring at the trees ahead. His hands crossed over his knees. She resisted the urge to touch his dark Seam hair. Maybe even lean down to kiss him. She never kissed a boy. Not even the Mellark boy. She wondered what it felt like. Having another one's lips on their own. The feeling of his large hands on her small waist.

He gave her a quick glance, and in one swift movement he was on the log next to her. His side pressed against hers. She blushed violently and kept her gaze on the forest floor. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him smiling at her. A sweet, boyish smile that made her insides jump. She turned to face him and faster than she could comprehend, his lips were on hers. She froze for a moment and then melted into the kiss. His hands gravitating toward her waist and her hands finding their way around his neck. Completely oblivious to the world.

The boy of her dreams was kissing her and she felt like she would die any moment if his lips left hers.

And he broke away, nervously searching her town-blue eyes. She searched his grey ones.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," The Seam boy whispered. Nervously running his hands over his worn jeans. Fleeting his eyes toward the forest ground and back at her blue eyes.

And she felt the same way, and she wanted to scream it. Inside, she was ecstatic. She was happier than she had been in years. She didn't want to think about anything else but him. She wanted to spend the day in the woods with him. She didn't care if she got caught. She wanted to run away with the Seam boy.

"Me too," she let out a puff of air and her eyes danced on the sunlight. Making her blonde hair glow. His eyes shot to her's. An expression of shock on his features. He thought the townkeeper's daughter would never fall for him. He thought he would never have a chance.

And they spent the day in the woods. He taught her things about nature she had never known. And they would sit together at school. The Mellark boy didn't refuse her. He gave her a polite smile, but he didn't force himself on her. He knew he didn't stand a chance. So he tried to forget. Meet other people. And he did meet someone else. A woman who didn't talk much. He offered her smiles and she brushed him off. She was something different, and the Mellark boy liked that. But, she was a bitter person. But he didn't care.

And the blonde town girl felt a ting of guilt when she saw the Mellark boy talking to the bitter girl no one else talked to. She ignored it though, she kept her focus on the Seam boy. He snuck her to the woods every weekend and they would spend hours talking. Asking each other questions. What they wanted to do in the future. She found out he wanted to do everything she wanted to. Be a little crazy, sneak out to the woods any time. See the part of 12 no one else ever saw. And then settle down and have a family. He wanted a little girl. He told her one day. Someone he could teach to hunt. But he also was afraid, they both were. That they're children would be reaped, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

They quickly fell in love with each other. Knowing each other's motives before the other one knew it themselves. Sharing glances in school. Smiles. Her parents didn't approve. But she didn't care. The year she turned eighteen. No longer eligible for the reaping, and no longer a minor, she and the Seam boy married. A townkeeper's daughter marrying a Seam boy, it was unheard of. But she didn't care, neither did he.

And they moved to the Seam. She forget her earlier life, the best she could. She and the Seam boy were each other's family now.

She didn't regret falling in love with the spontaneous Everdeen boy. Taking his last name herself. She never did. He loved her in a way that she had never been loved before. Her parents soon stopped calling. Her friends stopped coming by, and she blended into the Seam ways. She become the town healer. She started over, forgot everything in her past, and started new with the Everdeen boy. She only hoped their future children would be as passionate as the Everdeen boy was.

She was given the choice of a baker or a coalminer. She ran away with the coalminer, and never regretted it a day in her life.


	2. Chapter 2: The Mellark Family

The Mellark Family

Mr. Mellark was a good man. Treated his wife right, although he didn't enjoy being cursed, but he loved his wife, nevertheless. At least, he tried to. She ran the bakery with him, and kept things on schedule. She was bitter at times, and no one but Mr. Mellark knew why. She had a hard childhood, an angry father and no mother. She raised herself, mostly. Kept things going and when she met Mr. Mellark in their last year of school, they ran off and got married. Mrs. Mellark had trust issues and didn't like being intimidated by others. Mr. Mellark kept his distance at times and helped her or talked to her when she needed him to.

Mr. Mellark always wanted children. And when he brought the subject up, he was only rejected by his wife. He gave up on asking. He didn't want to make her anymore angry than she already was. But he wanted to give over the bakery to his children. And he couldn't do that if he didn't have any. He finally brought it up one more time, pleading with fate that she would somehow agree. Blood rose to the surface of her face and she gripped the counter that was behind her.

"Fine." She said. Her eyes flashing with anger. He almost backpedaled, refusing his own idea until she tackled him. And he regretted that she made love to him out of pure anger and irritation. He felt like a fool. But when she came to him with the news of her pregnancy he couldn't contain his excitement for a child, and he couldn't comprehend how she wasn't happy. She went along with the pregnancy. Cursing herself through it. And Mr. Mellark felt bad that he put through that. But he was excited for a child, and she somehow got through the pregnancy. Giving birth to a healthy boy. And Mr. Mellark couldn't contain his happiness about having a son. Someone who could inherit the bakery and keep it going when he couldn't. But Mrs. Mellark couldn't be a mother. And she felt like a failure. She wanted to be a good mother, but she was just not maternal. And it didn't help at all when her son didn't even want to breastfeed, that was when she turned more bitter than she ever had, and Mr. Mellark spent most of his time caring for his son, that his wife wouldn't care for.

Their son was a happy child, ran around the bakery and simply adored his father. He loved his mother, but she shrugged him off, yelling at him when he would knock over a bowl of flour. He would try to clean up his mess as best as a five year old little boy could, in fear of his mother hitting him. Mr. Mellark cringed when Mrs. Mellark hit their oldest child. And their son would run up to Mr. Mellark, hot tears rolling down his pale cheeks. Clinging to his father for dear life. Those were the times Mr. Mellark questioned the marriage with his wife. He kept their son around him, didn't allow him to sneak off and make a mess and get a beating.

"Mommy loves you; she's just mad, okay?" Mr. Mellark would tell his son. He would nod and whimper as he hugged his father. His tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck. They're blonde curls blending together.

"Why?" His son asked, his pale blue eyes full of pain and it made Mr. Mellark want to grab his son and run away from 12.

"I don't know, son." He thought she would get better when they had kids. He thought she would become more loving. He was devastated when he discovered his was wrong. Oh, so wrong.

Mrs. Mellark became pregnant again, and Mr. Mellark was happy, but he knew that was another child who would be abused by their mother. He kept optimistic though, and helped his wife through another pregnancy. His oldest son was excited to have a baby brother or sister. Mrs. Mellark just wanted it over. She wanted the baby to be born and out of her. She hated being pregnant, most woman adored those nine months when their child developed in their body, Mrs. Mellark was spiteful and before their child was even born, she was claiming this would be the last one. Mr. Mellark confirmed that this would be the last.

Their second son was skinnier than and not as healthy as their first son. Mr. Mellark worried about him, but the doctors told him that his son was fine. He agreed and didn't worry about the matter. He loved his newest son. He resembled his mother much and had her light brown hair. He was a quiet baby and their oldest son enjoyed having a brother. Mrs. Mellark went on with life, caring for her second son as much as a hateful person could love. (Which was not much.) He wasn't as stubborn as their first son and took to breast feeding. Mrs. Mellark feed her son and the rest was up to Mr. Mellark. She would curse her husband, and both of her sons, for no reason. Just because she was in an unpleasant mood. Mr. Mellark basically raised his two sons on his own. He was happy with his two sons.

They grew up quickly and took to the ways of the bakery. Helping their father with the family business. They had grown accustom to their mother's ways. Ignored her angered and took beatings like men. Mr. Mellark prayed that his sons didn't take up his wife's way and become hateful, spiteful men. He would hate himself if that happened on his watch. He protected his sons but was respectful to his wife. Encouraged her to take her anger out else where, instead of beating their children.

Prevention failed and she became pregnant again. She became more bitter and horrid, than she had ever been. Screamed at Mr. Mellark for getting her into this situation again. She didn't want to be a mother, not at the least, _again_. Mr. Mellark feared for this child. He knew this is exactly what she didn't want, and that she would be even more angry when this child was born. She didn't want anymore. No more. Their third child was a mistake. A horrid mistake that Mr. Mellark knew his wife _never _wanted. She sulked in hatred through her pregnancy. She never smiled. Her eyes grew cold and calculated. She beat their two sons just for improperly icing cookies. She was never happy. Mr. Mellark built walls, didn't talk to his wife, because she was so mean to his sons. And he pitied the child that was on the way.

Peeta.

He just thought of that name when he saw his third son's face. Bright blue eyes that you couldn't help but smile when you saw them. A head full of blonde ashy curls. Something was different about this son. He was just _so _happy. He laughed. He brought happiness back in their malicious home. His two brothers adored their youngest brother, and Mr. Mellark was certain his youngest son would grow up and take over the bakery.

Although, Mrs. Mellark treated their youngest son terribly.

Mr. Mellark took his youngest son to his first day of school. Drawing in a gasp when he saw the small, blonde woman standing next to the olive-skinned Everdeen man. Kissing their dark-haired, olive-skinned daughter. Her hair was in two braids and she smiled her way through the room. Small, little Peeta kept his gaze locked on her all day. Repeating the confession of his father's in his head. He found out her name was Katniss.

_Katniss._

And the kindergarten little town boy fell head over heels for this Seam girl when she sung in music assembly. He thought his heart stopped when her beautiful melody flowed through the walls of the school. And he knew, one day, he would talk to her.

He thought of ways to speak to her. He failed miserably, he just couldn't do it. She made him too nervous. He thought of her as this beautiful creature, that no one could touch. She was too perfect. Her smile and her laugh that he could notice _anywhere. _But, he knew that it was unheard of for a shopkeeper's kid to even associate with a Seam kid. But, his crush only grew larger. It never ended.

He took what his mother had to dish out on him, like a man. It was routine for his mother to scold him. He had gotten used to it. She was an angry woman and there wasn't anything anyone could do about it. So, he took it. But each visit to school and seeing Katniss' face made him forget about his home life for a little while. And he just wanted so badly for her to speak to him. Just one word.

And turning twelve only made it worse. Puberty was a wreck on him, only making his lust for girls grow. And he was eligible for the Hunger Games. This scared him to death. Many girls threw themselves at him. He was one the baker's sons. He was popular at school. He agreed to some relationships, betraying them soon afterwards. Katniss made too much of an impression on him for him to even think about loving someone else.

He watched Katniss drown into a sea of depression when her father died. He sat back and cursed himself for not being able to help her. Talk to her, maybe. Be of some help. He watched her smile fade and he would sit back and beg for it to come back. He wanted to see her smile again. He wanted to hear her sing again. It wasn't fair what happened to her father. He knew that. But at only the age of twelve, there were no words he could offer. He didn't know how. So, he didn't.

But, he was shocked when he saw her digging through the trash. And he almost leaped out and stopped his mother when she went out, cursing the air in front of her. And he dropped those loaves of bread in the fire. Receiving a mark across his face. He gladly took it and threw those loaves of bread toward Katniss. He wished he could have just taken it to her, he should have just went out in the rain and handed it to her. His mother went on the whole day about those "stupid" Seam kids. But, Peeta was truly heartbroken. She didn't have food, and he wanted to help. Food was scarce in District 12. Many people died from starvation. The Capitol lied and said it was a sickness. But everyone knew it wasn't.

He never did get the courage to talk to her. Spent eleven years watching her every move at school. Talking to that Gale Hawthorne. Who he knew he didn't stand a chance toward. He accepted the fact he would never spend his life with his childhood crush. Although, he hated it think about _not _spending his life with her.

That is, until he walked into town square that summer day. And, well, the rests history.

**A/N: **_Thank you for reading! _

_- Joy_


	3. Chapter 3: Life And Death

A/N: Just a little one-shot I wrote on impulse.

-Joy

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She can smell death in the air. She can feel it crawling around her form and constricting her body like a vice. She can feel the blood dripping off her hands. She can see the bodies laying all around. The people she called friends. The people who trusted her. She can hear them hissing her name as it drips off their tongues like venom.

She's afraid to take a step. She keeps her eyes closed as she lives in the darkness that surrounds her. She's afraid to open her eyes. She's afraid that she'll see everyone she loves dead on the cold ground.

The wind picks up and she feels it cold against her skin. She can smell the metallic scent of gore heavy in the wind. She keeps her eyes shut as she remains stalk still. Too afraid to see the people. But she opens them anyway.

And she gasps at the field of corpses that lay around her feet. Their eyes still open, but dead and cold. Their skin pale and lifeless. She killed them, she knows. It's her fault these people died.

She can hear her name being hissed in the air. Threats and insults. She's afraid to take a step as she stands in the cold wind, shivering. She turns around and finds more corpses and she begins to falter. She looks down at herself to find black leather and her bow.

Katniss Everdeen stands in her Mockingjay suit, bow in hand, in a field of corpses. The wind heavy and the fog disabling her to see well. She wonders how she got here. What brought her to the point where she stands with the dead. Where she doesn't have the faintest idea why they were fighting.

Why she was fighting.

"Look where you lay now! You're dead! Is this what you wanted?!" she screams at the air and her fists clench. Anger seizing her body and her jaw set. "What were you fighting for?!" she throws her bow down in disgust and it shatters before her eyes. She watches it evaporate.

She stares down at the gold pin resting on her chest and rips it off the black fabric, throwing it to the ground and watching it land on a child no younger than six years old. His eyes dark and his skin cold.

She begins to weep for her country.

But she can't cry; she can't produce tears. Her sobs come out dry and she breathes in the familiar scent of death.

She forces her legs to walk. She forces her eyes to look ahead. But she can't stop her sight from wavering to the ground to find the bodies of the people she was meant to protect. She can't stop the guilt she's felt so many times before as she stumbles upon a small child.

She wonders why she's in this state. Why is she walking on corpses. Why is she in a world with no end. What did she do to end up here.

Her eyes catch sight of a blonde braid and she shakes her in disbelief. And then the tears come in multitudes as she kneels in front of the body that once held the little girl called Primrose Everdeen. She can hear the wind and she can still her name, but her sobs out beat them all. Her blue eyes are frozen on the sky. Katniss reaches up her hand to drag her finger across her cheek and she finds it cold to the touch. She doubles over as she weeps onto her sister's stomach. Beating her fists on the ground, she screams in agony. She screams as the familiar pain chokes the life out of her. She screams because there is no reason not to scream. She screams as she finds the blood of her sister on her hands. She screams as she falls to the ground with a thud. Not making a sound as she screams internally.

She falls to her side. The thick grass laying underneath her body. She sees a hand next her; another body. She looks up to find the face of another person she's killed, but she finds the face of a person that tried to kill her.

_Peeta_.

She stifles the sob. She tries to stop the pain but she reaches up her hand to clutch his. She brings her body off the ground and lands by his cold body. His eyes that she once was reeled into, dark and eerie. Blood pours out of his side and she begins to scream again. She pulls his head into her lap and stretches his curls as she watches her tears create puddles on his pale face.

"I love you." she whispers. Her voice cracks and she sobs again. Hugging his body to her own. His blood leaking onto the black leather of her suit. His body once warm and inviting, now cold and dead.

Everything around her is dead. Everyone around her was killed by her hands. By her doing. Her sister, the boy that saved her life, dead at the hands of Katniss Everdeen.

She kisses his lips once more. She lingers as she tries to imagine how he would kiss her back. He would laugh, and take her breath away as kissed her again. She can almost feel his hands crawl up her back, but she draws back to find his lips blue and his skin cold.

She can't stop weeping.

She gently drops his body back to the ground and lays beside him. She watches what he saw before she killed him. She tries to imagine what he was thinking. How disgusted he was with her.

"Why are you here?!" she demands. Churning her head to find that blonde braid that belonged to her sister then the coldness of the boy she loved beside her. She raises her hands in front of her and watches the blood drip off of her fingers.

She begins to weep again.

Despair, agony, torture. This is what it feels like. The only people she loved, plus her entire country, dead by her side. Rotting on the ground.

It's all her fault.

She falls asleep clutching the cold hand of the boy who gave her life, but she gave him death.

She wakes with a start. Sweat trickles down her forehead and she instantly raises her body to a sitting position. She tries to breathe, but she stares at the door of her bedroom and knows she's back in Victor's Village. Alone in this big house. Alone in this empty bed.

She refuses to close her eyes, that will bring back the memories of the dead, she won't do that. She focuses on her breathing. She closes her mouth and relaxes her body.

She feels emptiness envelop her soul and she drops her face in her hands. She has no one to bring her to reality. She has no one to hold her. She can't get away from the nightmares.

A sharp pain shoots through her core and she yelps. Holding her stomach in her grasp she inhales sharply.

She's pregnant.

And she realizes that this pain is familiar. Something she's experienced before and the she connects the two and finds that her baby was kicking. The baby was letting her know that it was there.

She pauses for a moment and then turns around in her bed. She finds a very alive Peeta asleep. And then it all comes back to her in the monologue the doctors taught her to say when she got confused. Starting from the obvious things to the more confusing things.

She stares at her left hand for a moment. Finding a band that matches the one that is resting on Peeta's finger.

_My name is Katniss Mellark. Peeta and I have been married for almost twenty years. I am pregnant with our second child. There are no more Games. I have a daughter. I was just dreaming. _

She lays back down beside her husband and he stirs, resting his left hand on her swollen stomach. He pulls her close and she buries her head into his neck.


	4. Chapter 4: Bitter

He tips back the liquor bottle and it fills his throat, the feeling no longer burns like it used to, his throat has become numb to the shock of it after 30 years.

_Numb_.

He could use that word to explain his entire life. Dull, melancholy and empty. Numb to life and the meaning of its horrid ways. He's been drinking away his life since he decided to go to District 2. Trying to drink away his grief. Hoping that alcohol will consume his body and let him forget the past.

The stupid past.

He thinks about her all the time. Most of the reason he drinks so much. He thinks of what he did. How he was used as Coin's pawn. How fate put a match to the future he had planned with her.

He knows she hates him. She loathes him.

He hates himself.

Everyday he remembers the day. The day when the parachutes went off and killed all of those innocent children, including a blonde girl who wanted to be a doctor.

It's been 30 years since he heard her voice. It's been 30 years since he saw her. He long dark braid wrapping around her shoulder. Her nimble fingers as they gripped onto the feathers of her arrows.

He gave up on hunting a long time ago.

He wonders about the boy. If he ever recovered and went back to 12. He often wonders if they ever married, maybe. After all they did together. Those kisses he was forced to watch. The way she smiled at him. He knew that she loved the boy, and not him.

He went to District 2 after he watched Coin shot at the hands of his hunting partner. Got a job and tried to forget what happened. He tried his best to find someone else. To forget her. Which ended up in drunken nights he wanted to forget, also. A lot of his life he wanted to forget.

The years had sped by so fast and he wondered where they went. He knows she's almost fifty by now. He still remembers her 12 year old form in the woods. That memory will remain vivid in his mind until silence takes him.

He used to spend his nights drinking liquor and digging through memories in his mind. Now he tries to drown out the memories with the liquor and hopes one day the liquor takes them away; he doesn't want them anymore. They bring grief and make him cringe. What could have been. They could have married if the Games didn't exist. She could have carried his children like she was supposed to, but she didn't and she never will.

He sighs as the bottle clacks on the wooden table. The air is silent tonight. It's early spring. Katniss' favorite season. He knew so much about her. He watched her for years. He watched her mature and turn into the ferocious woman she was 30 years ago. The woman that turned a country around for good. A woman who stole the hearts of many, including his.

But someone else stole her heart before he could himself.

She never loved him, he knows that. And he chokes down the bitter liquid as the thought echoes through his mind, again. Just like the liquor, he tries to make the thought disappear from sight.

They never go away, though.

Memories are what keep us who we are, but they also destroy us. Memories can bring a smile but they can also bring pain that feels like someone is piercing your heart with a knife. Slowly and painfully.

Gale Hawthorne has felt that way for 30 years.

He combs through his dark grey hair with his fingers and stifles a cough. He's gotten old, he feels it. He wonders if Katniss has only gotten more beautiful, and he feels envious for the one who gets to drink in her beauty everyday.

But who knows, maybe she's still hunting everyday and never married. Maybe she's still the old Katniss Everdeen.

He's lying to himself, he knows.

Pain and grief can make you desperate for help. Because pain is a ruthless killer and it does no good. It sets in your soul and does nothing but slowly eat you alive and with no one to ease that pain, you turn to things that you think will numb the pain, just numb. Things will always numb the pain, love will diminish the pain.

And he knows she turned to someone else, but he won't admit it. He still hangs on to a blind hope that she's still waiting for him. A part of him hopes she is, another part curses himself for thinking such an absurd thing.

So instead of acting on the problem, he takes another swig of his liquor and rocks in his old chair. Listening to the bugs chirp and living in flashbacks of the years so long ago. When all he lived for was seeing her face and venting about the Capitol.

He can't find many things to live for anymore.

He's thought about calling her. He doesn't even know if she still lives at the house that number belongs to, but he does think about it. He thinks about what her voice would would sound like. If it would be the same or more smooth from age. If she still braids her hair, but that always leads to him becoming envious of the man that has the privilege to unravel her dark Seam hair.

He thinks of those times when she was so desperate for human contact. The way the skin on her neck felt under his lips. How much she begged for his kisses in the woods that were so unknown to them.

He knows another man does that now. And he knows the man that kisses her now was the same man she was thinking of when she kissed him.

Another bitter swallow.

He regrets what happened, he really does. Not a day goes by without thinking about those bombs or Katniss. He doubts she has children, she never wanted them, but then again, she changed a lot. And with Peeta Mellark as a husband, he probably convinced her.

He sighs again.

He thinks about what she would say if she did pick up the phone. If she would curse him and hang up on him of she would ask him to come home.

He's lying to himself, once again.

But he is contemplating it. She would probably be home, but then again he doesn't know. And with one more swig of his liquor he rises to his feet and gravitates to his phone. He stops himself, though. He's tried calling before but he's always hung up before it could even ring. But he does dial the number, all too familiar to his fingers and takes one last swig of his liquor before the phone rings. Swallowing hard, he waits for the voice that he hasn't heard in 30 years.

He starts to falter and his chest starts to tighten. He can't do this.

"You're being a coward," he says to himself.

He's about to slam the phone into the receiver and grab another bottle of liquor when a small, so familiar voice creeps on the line.

"Hello?" it has to be Katniss, it can't be anyone else. He soaks in the sound of her voice and then remembers exactly what it sounds like.

_"Stealing is punishable by death."_

He falters, remembering that moment in their childhood.

He takes the leap and sucks in air and speaks,

"Katniss...?" he sounds unsure and pauses. Cursing himself again. He shouldn't have called.

"No, this is her daughter, may I ask who's calling?"

Daughter? _Daughter? _

He almost loses his voice. He deflates because he knows that she has a child. And he knows who she had the child with. Nothing stays the same. And Katniss Everdeen will never be his again, because she never was in the first place.

He starts to hear shuffling and hears a voice he's spoken to before. He hears the voice of a person who has everything Gale Hawthorne ever wanted.

"Who's on the phone?" a male voice speaks in the background; Peeta Mellark.

"I don't know, dad." his heart drops like a stone in his stomach and he almost hangs up, because he knows more than he ever wanted to.

"Give it to me, sweetie." he knows that the owner of that voice belongs to the owner of his heart, but he doesn't wait for her to come on the line. He drops the phone on the receiver and cracks the seal on another bottle of liquor.

Katniss Everdeen is no longer his hunting partner. She's a mother, to Peeta Mellark's children.

The thought screams at him all through out the night. And he kills the thought with the help of a lot of liquor.

He tries to mask the pain of the false fantasies he dreamed of having with the phantom Katniss Everdeen. But that's all Katniss Everdeen is to him; a phantom. A memory that must be forgotten in order for him to move on and live his life.

He's lying to himself for the millionth time.

Another bitter swallow of liquor.


	5. Chapter 5: Theirs

A/N: Simply because I was in the mood for Everlark babies.

-Joy

* * *

She struggled with her arrow, and it missed miserably and fell to the ground. She huffed and walked over to pick it up. She knew she couldn't focus on hunting today, there was no use in even trying. So she found a tree, climbed up and found a sturdy limb where she was high enough to look through the trees. Katniss sighed heavily and started to fiddle with the feathers on her arrows.

Today, after almost a year after Peeta and Katniss's toasting, he talked about the possibility of children. Katniss instantly recoiled and flatly said, no. And she wanted to grab the words she had just said and stuff them back in her mouth because the look in his eyes made her want to cry.

She tried to search her heart and conjure some kind of emotion but instead she found nothing. She had no desire for children. She had no desire to raise such an innocent human being in this cruel, treacherous, God forsaken world. And she thought he didn't want to either, that children is just completely out of the picture. How would he want to? A child born to two people who can barely get out of bed when depression hits out of no where? A child born to a father who could snap someone's neck in a heartbeat. Of course, his flashbacks are never that bad, but it's possible.

She exhaled and climbed out of her perch in the tree when she saw the sun setting, and she knew Peeta would be begin to worry. But she didn't know, he was probably still mad. The conversation of children quickly turned into a fight, and Katniss cleared out of the house and left Peeta to mull over her words.

Walking back home, Haymitch gave her a wave of his hand.

"Trouble in paradise, eh?" he laughed for a moment and his laughter died down to nothing when Katniss gave him a scowl. "The boy came over here earlier. He was kind of pissed at you, like most people get." he was drunk, slurring his words, so Katniss gave him a dismissive shake of her hand, right after she called over to the distance. "He's almost twenty-three years old, Haymitch. He's not a boy." Haymitch ruptured in a fit of laughter and she didn't even want to know why.

He gave her an almost hopeful glance when she came through the door, hanging her jacket on its respected hook and unlacing her hunting boots. She decided not to hold a grudge or even stay upset. She wanted to convince him of the reason she didn't want children, and she planned on doing so.

So, when he gave her a smile she curled her fingers around his forearm and said, "We'll talk about it later." and then disappeared upstairs to bathe.

When she returned, he was sitting on the couch, watching some kind of Capitol news and obviously waiting for Katniss, his eyes held too much anxiousness when she reached the threshold of the main room.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she stopped him.

"Okay, just let me talk. Just listen to me." he nodded his head and she curled beside him. Laying her head on his chest she sighed and felt his fingers comb through her dark hair.

She traced over the buttons of his shirt and thought of the day when he came back from the Capitol. Planting bushes outside of her house, in memory of her sister. He was thin and covered in scars then, but five years later, he's gotten his strength back and they still have scars, but they both look better than they used to.

"I'm just scared of screwing up another human being." she exhaled softly. "It's not that I don't love you, and it's not that I don't want to have kids with you, it's the fact that I don't want to scare them or bring them into a world that might break out in war again. I just don't want to take chances with something so important." she felt Peeta nod, of course he understood. His hand settled on the small of her back and her shoulders relaxed.

"I know that you're scare about it. But that's the thing Katniss, if you're too scared to take a chance, then what good is it to be alive?" she swallowed thickly because she knew he had a point. "Katniss, I don't want just kids, I want our kids. I want to have someone I can raise with you. If we have kids, we can give them everything we never had. Two loving parents, food, a home." he brushed back her hair off her shoulder. She turned over to meet his gaze and laid her head in his lap. She saw the look in his eyes, that look he got when he was day dreaming. He always had a sparkle in his eyes and a slight smile when he daydreamed.

"J-just give me some time, okay?" he nodded and offered a kind smile. She raised up and met his smile with her lips.

He did give her time, in fact he didn't speak of children often. But Katniss thought of it often. The look in his eyes when he saw children laughing, then he would find Katniss' gaze afterwards and she felt like a terrible person every time her silence was her answer.

And she wondered if it would be so bad, she was still young. She would be able to carry them, and have a healthy pregnancy, but every time she almost gave in, the memory of all those women going to her mother and giving birth to silent babies or miscarried or the pain in their eyes when her mother would have to tell them they couldn't conceive, convinced her she didn't want children.

She was too broken, they both were and she didn't want to pass on a burden to another generation. Didn't want to be responsible for a child.

Sometimes, -rarely- she let herself wonder about her life with a child. A child of Peeta's. Her lips twitched up in a smile when she thought of blond curls and blue eyes learning how to bake. And it was like a bullet went through her heart when her mind told her it would never happen.

So she forget about it for as long as she could. Until Peeta brought it up, that is. Mostly when he knew she was leaving for the medical center to receive another dose of birth control, that's when he gave her those eyes that tore her heart to shreds.

But she kept her ground, kept repeating that she wasn't ready or that she just couldn't be a mother.

And this went on for years.

Haymitch stumbled into their kitchen one day, asking Katniss if she had more liquor, which she did, she kept it around for times like this. When he drunk himself clean and came begging for more.

"You're gonna drink yourself to death," she said flatly. He laughed and tilted the bottle to his lips. "At least I'll die happy," he mused. Katniss scowled and returned to folding clothes that she had recently took off the clothes line. Haymitch found himself a chair and watched her intently.

"What is it, Haymitch?" she had grown irritated by his presence and dropped the shirt she was folding to rest her fist on her hip.

"What's wrong with you?" he laughed again and Katniss exhaled loudly. "You and Peeta have been really tip toeing around each other for a while now," she shook her head and looked him in the eye.

"Is that any of your business?"

"Actually, yes. I did save your lives so you two are my business." she scowled again and made sure he heard scoff.

"If you must know, Peeta wants kids and I don't, and that's that." part of her wanted to take the words back after she said them.

Haymitch stared at her blankly for a moment. Sat down his bottle of liquor and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You've got to be kidding me." she watched him shake his head.

"What?" her voice came off more defensive than she would have liked.

"After all this mess and you can't give him children, just because you don't want them? That's a bunch of bull, Katniss." she sunk down at his words and instantly felt like a coward. And then anger made it's way into her heart.

She didn't have any excuses. Everything that she had been through, Haymitch had been through no worse. The way she wouldn't look in his eyes was answer enough that she had no comeback for him.

"Haymitch, I just don't want to lose anyone else." his considerate expression told her he understood.

"I think you should think about him, though." she nodded and he walked out the door, liquor in hand.

She came across one of Peeta's shirts as she was folding their clothes. It was the same shirt he was wearing the night she first told him the reason she didn't want children. And it felt like an eternity ago. She traced the same buttons on his shirt that she did five years ago and sighed.

Maybe she could do it. Maybe she could give Peeta what he wanted. Give him a child of his own. She couldn't stop war, and maybe war would never take place until years, and years from now. She thought about the good things that were tied together with children, their innocence, their smile.

She swallowed thickly when she heard the front door close, and Peeta's voice ringing through the walls. He gave her a smile, and shrug off his coat. She felt her courage lacking as the seconds passed, so when he dove in to give her a kiss, she just blurted it out.

"I want a baby."

Peeta drew back in disbelief and gripped her shoulders. "What?"

"I just realized I'm being selfish and I don't want to keep this from you."

"If you're doing this just because of me, then we shouldn't do it."

"No, I w-want to." the smile that broke out on his face made her heart jump in her chest. He was happy, so happy and she wondered why she didn't allow this sooner. She would have done anything to see this smile.

He brought his lips to her own and dragged his thumb across her cheek. Laughing, he picked her up and carried her up the stairs.

"Peeta, the birth control has to wear off first." Katniss said. He kissed her once more. "We can still try." her chuckle was muffled by his mouth.

She knew it, she just didn't want to accept it.

"What day is it?" Katniss asked Peeta quietly. He casually gave her the date and she felt like she swallowed a block of lead. Peeta gave her a confused glanced. "Why?" she shook her head and trudged up the stairs. Locking the bathroom door, she sunk on the side of the tub and buried her face in her hands.

This is what they planned for, after all. She didn't understand why she was upset. But a terror lit a fire in her heart and she felt small and defenseless. Another person that would depend on her for everything. Another person that she might fail. But what made it more terrifying was the fact that this person who would depend on her for every need, was growing inside of her. The child was a part of her. A being she and Peeta had created out of unconditional love for each other.

Even though terror cleaved to her like a poison, she knew that she already loved the child. Simply because the child was a part of Peeta also. It was his child, too.

But the fear didn't leave her heart.

She choked down the tears she wanted so badly to fall. She sucked in a breath and began to hear Peeta's plea for her to open the door. And she did, turning the lock Peeta met her gaze.

"You're pregnant, aren't you?" Katniss numbly nodded her head. She wondered how he knew, but she knew she was like an open book to him so she didn't ask why.

She sensed he wanted to smile, probably wanted to shout it in the street but he only gave her a wary look. Stared at her eyes intently and that's when she fell apart.

He scooped her up in his arms and sat beside her on the edge of their bed. But her arms didn't leave his neck, and he allowed her to stain his shirt with her tears. She was afraid, just so afraid.

"Tell my why you're crying, a baby isn't a reason to cry." Peeta said, softly. Holding Katniss's gaze as his hands fitted around her jaw.

"I'm scared." she felt like a coward, so she avoided his gaze, wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his neck.

"Katniss," he laughed softly and wrapped his arms tighter around her form, pressing a kiss to her temple. "everything will be fine, I swear it."

Katniss had wondered her entire life why someone would want a child, why they would want to bring such a innocent person into a world of horrors. But as she watched Peeta hold their daughter in his arms and give her the most sparkling smile she had since the afternoon on the roof of the Training Center, she finally understood why a child was so special, such a blessing, and even better, the child was theirs.


	6. Chapter 6: The Ugly Past

I should be used to it by now. I really should.

But I'm not.

The questions, the constant nagging, those eyes that grow wide in shock when I introduce myself. I am used to being constantly asked questions by the teachers in History class. Because of course, who else wouldn't ask the daughter of the people who changed the country when learning about the Hunger Games?

_How is your mother? Is your father still suffering from his hijacking? _

The first time I got asked that question I whirled on my heel and asked sternly, "what?" Hijacking? A human being?

I never get told anything.

And if someone says something wrong Mom goes dead silent and the next morning doesn't get out of bed. Or she doesn't acknowledge anyone. That we are just figures frozen in time that are not to be touched.

Dad usually coaxes her out of her 'bad days'.

But I love my mother, regardless of the fact she grows depressed at times. That doesn't make her any less of a mother to me and my brother.

We don't live in a terrible, depressed home. I often wake up to my parents laughing while they cook breakfast. The good days outweigh the bad days. The good days include hunting with Mom while Dad takes Linden to the bakery. Which is now entitled, "Mellark and Son". Which is completely obvious due to the fact that Linden wants to do everything Dad does. I laughed the first time Linden tried baking. He ended up dropping a sack of flour and covering the entire kitchen in the white substance. Rupturing the house in a fit of laughter.

I find that I don't belong very much, reason being that I don't take after Mom or Dad. I don't like baking as much as Linden does, I enjoy hunting because I can spend time with Mom but otherwise, I don't do anything special.

Well, I can draw but that will bring no importance to me in the future. Dad used to lay on the floor with me and draw. I still remember him telling me how to correctly draw certain things and I would watch his steady hands sketch Mom. Her stomach bulging from the weight of my brother.

I have never quite seen two people love each other as much as my parents.

Well, if you don't count those stupid romance novels that I can't help but read and wonder if my parent's life before my brother and I was one of young fire and passionate love.

Who am I actually kidding?

I am told it was though. The most heartbreaking, beautiful love story of all time.

I wish someone would tell me how their relationship received that heavy title.

All I know about the past is that there were Games that went on for 75 terrible years. That somehow my parents are tied in and there was a war, robbing my mother of her younger sister and leaving the country in shambles as they tried to rebuild.

My parents never speak of it.

But they're oblivious to the fact I still her their screams and their whispers. Only a hallway separates us. I don't take after Dad when it comes to sleeping habits, I am light sleeper and I wake up at the sound of a pen dropping.

Hearing Mom's screams sends shivers down my spine.

When Linden and I were younger, I remember Mom gathering us in her arms and taking us back to their bed with her. We would fall asleep in a tangle of limbs, muffled breaths and silent snoring.

I always wondered why.

I am sure it has to do with the Games.

They were violent, I'm told. As violent as a fight to the death can get.

I usually spend my nights awake in bed, conjuring up theories to the reason that my parents are so secretive of their past.

Was it so terrible that they cannot even tell their own daughter?

I am almost fifteen.

I could take it.

When I do wake up, to the loud footsteps of Linden and the terrible excuse of Dad trying to sing, I groan and stretch my limbs.

I hear Mom singing silently through the commotion downstairs. If I am silent enough, I can hear her across the hall. If she's singing, it's a good day.

I smile like a fool.

It's Saturday, which means we all go to the Meadow and hunt, while Dad and Linden are left to their own devices.

But the one whisper that kept me up half of the night, returns like a silent thief. I sigh and walk across the hall, hoping to ask Mom one question. Just one and praying I get an answer.

"Mom?" I stand in front of the door, my hand ghosting over the door knob.

"Come on in." I hear the highness of her voice and I can tell she's in a good mood.

My mother, not for one day in her life as has ever not looked beautiful. I mean, if you asked Dad, he would go on for years on the fact she was beautiful. Her hair is braided and she's lacing on her hunting boots.

I can only wish I look as beautiful as my mother does, some day.

Is it such a sin to have questions?

"Good morning, sweetie." she kisses my forehead and I follow her as she goes to brush her teeth.

"Can I ask you a question?" I swallow and stuff my hands in my pajama pants. She nods casually and I begin to falter.

_Just do it, Cam._

"Why is it that I hear you and Dad's past from everyone else but you?" Her hands still and I find her eyes in the mirror. And as quiet moments pass, I find how much we favor each other. But her eyes don't meet my own. They search for any other place to land. Pain washes over her face and she turns around to face me. "It's just, I want to know. I want to understand, Mom." I plead. She finally does meet my eyes and nods softly.

"What happened so long ago, is something I have wanted to forget for years, Camellia." she stares at her hands that rest on her thighs as she leans against the counter top. "But you deserve to know. And it's not fair for your father and I to keep it from you." I almost grin, but it would be a terrible time to do so. I'm just happy she finally sounds like she'll tell me. After all the whispers in school I never understood, I'll actually know.

Mom walks toward me and rests her hand on my jaw, giving me soft eyes, she kisses my forehead once more before giving me a hug.

"You're just growing up so fast and breaking your father's heart." she smiles and I laugh. Dad will always see me as his little girl, he can't get over the fact I'm almost fifteen. I think he just doesn't want to acknowledge that I am growing up.

Sometimes, I find myself not wanting to acknowledge it either.

"Come on, we'll go hunting and I will answer your questions, I promise." I nod, almost too excitedly and dart to my room to change.

When I finally walk downstairs, Linden is eating like he'll die tomorrow and Dad is packing sandwiches for the afternoon in the Meadow, while Mom is readying her bow. I grab a cheese bun that lays in the middle of the table and eat it happily.

Soon, we walk to the Meadow and Linden runs over to the big willow tree. I watch Dad pull out his sketch pad. Then Mom eyes him and pulls him close, and I happen catch what she says.

"You're supposed to talk to Linden. He's almost twelve." Dad draws back and gives a confused look at Mom. Then realization floods his face.

"Oh, that talk," Mom nods and Dad looks like a wounded animal as he stalks off in Linden's direction. The way Dad put stress on 'that' I know that today is the day that Linden gets the lecture I got when I was close to his age.

It was awkward.

But I'm getting an entirely different talk today.

Mom smiles and we walk into the woods. Silently, we tread and I watch Mom's face instantly grow content. She's always found peace in the woods, I do too.

I manage to kill a few squirrels and Mom kills a rabbit. And then I finally just ask.

"Can you just tell me? Just explain to me what I don't already know?" Mom's face falls for a second but it's short lived as she nods and motions toward a large tree trunk that we both sit by until she breaks the silence.

"My father died when I was eleven. He was killed in a mining accident and then my mother went into depression and left Prim and I to fend on our own. We were starving and I couldn't watch Prim become thinner and thinner, so I ended up trying to sell Prim's old baby clothes, but no one wanted them. So I thought I would find something in the bakery trash cans. Until your father's mother came out and started to scream. And that's when your father took a beating to help me. It wasn't fair; for his mother to beat him. We were both only eleven." I intently listen at the mention of my parents when they were children.

"Then I always felt like I owed your father because he helped me. But we never talked, and I never got to thank him. Then when Prim's name was reaped, I volunteered and then your father was reaped. When we got to the Capitol, our mentor was Haymitch, a drunk who ended up falling in his own vomit." So Haymitch's not family, well, he is but not in the way I thought. "Then your father told the entirety of Panem he was in love with me," we both smile for a moment. "I pushed him into a vase after his interview." Mom laughs and I join in.

She actually tells me everything. The nightmares, the Victory Tour, the Quarter Quell.

She even points to the Mockingjay locket she gave to me on my fourth birthday. "That was a gift from your father in the Quarter Quell. He wanted me to live and he wanted to die. I refused to let him die." that necklace has a lot of value to me, now.

"Your father was tortured. He was tortured because of me." I watched a single tear fall and her voice break when she said that. "They messed up his memories and he thought I was a killer. He forget he loved me." that's when I double take.

"How is that possible?" I ask. Mom shakes her head for a moment. Playing with a loose string on her shirt.

"They failed though. Because he hasn't had a violent flashback since you and Linden were born. And as far as I know, I think he loves me." Mom laughs.

And then she tells me about the war, and I think it's harder for her to tell than the Games, because she pauses and her face goes blank and they she starts up again.

I start to second guess making Mom tell me. She finally stops. Looks at me and smiles.

"Your father and I, when we first came back home, we vowed to live to make the death of our loved ones, count. And they are sometimes when I don't want to. But I think of your father and I on the rooftop of the Training Center. I think of the day you and Linden were born. I think of your father's face when he held you for the first time. I think of your smile and your father's smile and Linden's smile, and I don't feel so bad." that's when I practically jump in her lap, and wrap my arms around my mother's frame.

"I love you, Mom." she laughs softly and replies,

"I love you too"

X-X

I hug Dad for reasons he'll never understand.

They show me the memory book.

My parents are brave. Not just because they are the Victors of the 74th Hunger Games or Capitol torture survivors. They're brave because they live to tell the tale. They live to tell the tale to their children. And for the story to passed on to their grand children and so on and so on. Because they changed a country, and made it a better place for their children.

I don't think I can actually thank them enough.

I once asked Dad how he got through it. He found Mom's gaze and gave her a sincere smile, and answered: "I didn't get through it alone, and that's the beauty of it."


	7. Chapter 7: Home

**A/N: This one is for my awesome friend, Amanda. I was thinking about writing this oneshot for a while but we both started talking about Everlark babies and then this came forth. Because who can ever have too much Everlark baby births? **

**Thank you all for reviewing also, that's so sweet of you. :) **

**-Joy**

* * *

_She was calling his name, but he couldn't move. He was tripping over vines and branches. Calling her name frantically. Pain seized his chest and he began to grow frantic, he wasn't going to let her die. She was going to go home and let him sacrifice his life for her own. So she could marry and have the life she deserved. He was not needed, he wouldn't inherit the bakery, he would have to go off in the mines. _

_Death was the best option._

_"Peeta! I'm here!" he ripped through another curtain of vines and was determined to save her, do whatever it took. _

_"Peeta!" this was not how it was going to happen. This was not how the seventeen-year-old love his life was going to die. Not in an arena. He couldn't move on without her, there would be nothing. _

_Once again, death was the best option. _

_"Katniss!" he shouted back frantically. His brow heavy with sweat and his joints aching, but he had just enough strength and courage to make it to her. To kill whoever was fighting her. _

_And then everything blows up. _

_The last thought he remembered was the day not so long ago then. The sunset and her head in his lap. The day she allowed the affection of Peeta Mellark. The day she allowed him to weave his fingers through her hair and fantasize about life without the Games and the Capitol. Life with just his loyal, courageous, Katniss Everdeen._

"Peeta!" jolted back to reality, Peeta began to take in his surroundings. The scent of liquor heavy in the air, he took in the sight of Haymitch.

"Thought you were having a flashback, kid." Haymitch slurs his words and slaps Peeta on his shoulder.

"No, it wasn't shiny." he knew Haymitch didn't understand what shiny meant but Haymitch didn't protest, just nodded his head.

"Peeta!"

He heard it again and his head flew up to the direction of the shrill. He waited for a moment and then Haymitch explained.

"You came down her for something and she screamed for ya' and you just went blank, boy," Haymitch explained. Peeta nodded and didn't acknowledge his former mentor anymore, he fled up the stairs to the shrill, pained voice of his wife.

He remembered why he went downstairs in the first place when he reached the top of the stairs, he was going to get a wet cloth for Katniss but he heard her scream and his mind took him back to the clock arena and how her pleas for him now resembled those then.

And he remembered why too.

He actually smiled at the thought.

Today, he would meet their child. The child that he had waited years for. The child that Katniss asked him for, not him asking her which was unnerving since Peeta wanted them all along, but she saw the way he smiled at the children who strode into the bakery and were sneaked free cookies and she saw the longing in his eyes. Of course, he never pushed the subject because he knew she never wanted children. But she told him she wanted to try for a baby and the smile that hadn't been worn on his face for a very long time, was there for days. And his smile grew even wider when she whispered she was pregnant.

"Peeta!" he stopped thinking and finally walked into their bedroom. Where Katniss laid, her back against the headboard and her face sketched with her meanest scowl.

"You are not going to just skip out of this, so come here." he resisted laughing because that would only infuriate her more so instead he sat on the edge of the bed and held her hand as another contraction left her body in agony.

While Peeta held his wife's hand and waited until the town healer gave Katniss the permission to push, he let his mind drift for a while, thinking of the years that had already passed.

It was rocky at first; when Peeta first came back to District 12. Katniss was still in and out of depression and Peeta's flashbacks appeared often. But they slowly crawled out of the past together. Comforted each other when the nightmares creeped back in and protected each other, like they always had.

And in those moments, Peeta remembered why he fell in love with this girl in the first place. And Katniss realized that Peeta had always held a special place in her heart.

Katniss would pull Peeta out of his flashbacks and he would come to, sick with worry that he had hurt her, but she stood before him, unharmed with her eyes happy and her hands on his.

"Peeta, they're not getting worse, if anything they're getting less violent." she wore a smile and it took all he had not to pull her into his arms and kiss her until they were both gasping for breath, but he didn't want to do something to unhinged her. He didn't want to mix her up and watch her fade away again, so he kept to himself, gave smiles and held her when the nightmares hit.

He often wondered if sleeping in the same bed would help her with the nightmares. When the Capitol hijacked him, he thought the nights on the Victory Tour entailed more than Katniss gave in, but he cleared through that memory a long time ago. But his sleeping habits were growing worse and he found himself shrugging off Katniss when she asked him if he was sleeping.

He wasn't sleeping, he was spending his nights tossing and turning and waiting for the nightmares to hit full force and to spend his days fighting flashbacks, or just giving into them.

He was often awoken by his own screams.

He was tangled in his sheets and looked up to find Katniss looking at him with concern in her eyes. He remembered that look. She wore that look in the cave when he was near dying of blood poisoning.

She didn't say anything, she just repositioned the sheets, slipped off Peeta's prosthetic that he failed to take off because of exhaustion and slipped under the covers with him.

"What are you doing here?" he whispered, he wanted her there, more than anything. But the fact she was there, made no sense to him.

"We protect each other." was all he heard until they both fell asleep, without a nightmare.

And slowly, Katniss' things began to find their way over to Peeta's. And Katniss' things didn't leave. They were growing back together. The first kiss (in a long time) they shared, was one of longing that Peeta had not felt for some time.

And when a few years passed, she accepted his marriage proposal and he couldn't help but smile.

They had a quiet toasting. Exchanging promises and kisses.

Most importantly, they got on with life. Of course, they were bad days when neither of them wanted to get out of bed. When one became distant and the other couldn't handle the quietness. But there were good days. Days when they laughed until their cheeks hurt and passionate kisses were given and returned.

Peeta remembered all the fantasies he had thought up when he was a kid. How he just _knew_ Katniss Everdeen was his future wife and that no other girl could ever be her. But reality was so much better than his childhood fantasies.

So much better.

The strength of Katniss' hand clamped on his brought him back down to earth and he watched her face grow contorted as she fought through yet another contraction.

There was no words for how Peeta felt, really there are not any. He only knew that he was about to be a father and Katniss was about to be a mother, to their child. To a child they had created. To a child that would be more loved than anything in the world.

He sighed in happiness at the thought and kissed Katniss' temple.

He had wanted his own children since he was a child himself, and he only dreamed that the children would be Katniss' also.

I guess you could say his dreams were coming true.

Peeta gulped down his anxiety when the town healer instructed that it was time to push. Katniss and Peeta exchanged a glance for a moment and Peeta leaned in to brush his lips against hers. It was a kiss of reassurance and compassion.

Peeta counted backwards from ten like he was instructed to and gripped his wife's hand.

He was excited, he couldn't help it. He grinned wide as the town healer announced the baby was crowning. Katniss eyed him. He felt guilty for a moment, he knew his wife was in more pain than she had ever been in and he was over there grinning like a fool.

"One more push," the town healer said.

"Peeta," Katniss breathed, her face doubled in fear.

"Katniss don't do this now. Come on, one more push and we get to meet our baby," she gripped his hand tighter than he thought she could manage and waited for Peeta to begin counting.

"..10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5,"

He kissed her temple once more.

"..4, 3, 2, 1,"

And the cries of a newborn infant filled the room.

"It's a girl!" the town healer exclaimed. Peeta gasped and kissed his wife hurriedly. And he noticed the tears streaming down her face. But when she laughed, and returned his kiss he knew there was no sadness in her tears.

She had Katniss' hair. Red, wailing and all, he had a little girl. His little girl. He cut the cord where he was instructed to and watched the town healer clear his daughter airways and clean her, and then she handed his daughter to him and the reality of being a father hit home. And he was crying before he even realized it.

"Hey," Peeta whispered. "I'm your dad," his voice broke and he watched her squirm in his arms.

And he realized, his very existence was because of this moment. That some things happen to good people and they don't deserve it, but better, wondrous things come soon afterwards. Sometimes you just have to wait it out. It's confusing because life is confusing at times. He should be dead, that's what grips Peeta Mellark at this very moment. He should have been dead years ago. But he's standing with his newborn daughter in his arms. Relief floods him. The being in his arms will never know a reaping. She will never know abuse or starvation.

After the town healer finishes cleaning the remains of the afterbirth, Peeta makes his way over to his wife, who is smiling like the sun and eagerly takes their daughter from her husband's arms. They stay that way for sometime. Watching their daughter open her bright blue eyes and find her parents.

Peeta finds himself looking at his wife like she just achieved some miraculous victory, and in a way, she did. He kisses her. "I love you so much," he whispers. Resting his forehead against hers. She laughs softly and smiles. "I love you too."

And they let themselves finally enjoy the moment. How their lives just drastically changed. How they have a child to raise now.

Peeta thinks back to all the times he thought he was lucky or happy. But now, he just feels like he's finally found his way home. A home where the woman of his dreams is holding their daughter in her arms and smiling like she's home too.

Because they _are_ home.

Because home is family. Home is that delicious feeling of uttermost happiness. Home is where you know you are safe. Home is, well, home.

Haymitch slaps Peeta on the shoulder. "Nice job, boy." Katniss and Peeta laugh softly.

* * *

_Deep in her blue eyes, _

_there's a world unknown,_

_deep in her blue eyes is where you'll find home,_

_where the flowers dance and the birds sing,_

_where children laugh and your soul is free._


	8. Chapter 8: Little Blond Boy

_You're just a small bump unborn, in four months you're brought to life,_

_You might be left with my hair, but you'll have your mother's eyes,_

_I'll hold your body in my hands, be as gentle as I can, but for now you're scan of my unmade plans,_

_A small bump in four months, you're brought to life_

_Ed Sheeran - Small Bump_

* * *

A/N: because I apparently enjoy causing myself pain.

* * *

Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes people don't know how to deal with them. They may grieve in different ways or react in different ways.

The bad things in life won't go away. Because that's life. Life is not always happy. Life is not always cruel either, though.

But we must remember that things do get better. And as life goes on, we understand why things happened in the past and we learn to never forget those things, but to remember where we came from and where we are now.

* * *

It had been long enough. She watched her husband's eyes land on enough children to know that he desperately longed for a child. A child of their own.

But she was still fighting the demons that lurked in her mind. The constant fear of failing. Of having a child and losing it. To have the child ripped from her grasp.

It scared her. That she couldn't hide.

But her fear ebbed away somewhat when she thought of the happiness that could be brought to Peeta and possibly, herself. That maybe a child would be enough to settle the nightmares. To make the silence go away.

Katniss stood at the top of the stairs one morning. Pausing as she held onto the rail. She thought of what small feet would sound like running behind her. She envisioned a blond little boy chasing his father. A ghost of a smile spread across her lips at the thought of Peeta teaching a child of his own all the secrets he knew about baking.

Katniss swore she could hear children laughing.

So she let herself indulge. She explored the thoughts of a child. What the little one would look like. If he would have Peeta's hair or her eyes. If he would be broad shouldered like his father.

She hoped the child would take after his father in every attribute.

She often found herself in the woods. Thinking about her father. How happy he would be to have a grandchild. Her heart ached for her father's presence.

Katniss imaged Peeta's reaction if she told him she was pregnant. The grin that would never leave his face for days.

And when she told him she was open to the idea of children, the grin that she envisioned, he wore daily.

So she didn't open the bottle of pills she usually took everyday. She left them in the drawer and vowed it was for the best.

And when the fear of having children found its way into her mind, she focused on Peeta's smile and a blond little boy on his father's shoulders.

Of course the day came when the realization hit. That she was in fact pregnant with Peeta's child.

Her fingers trembled and she couldn't get a grip on her bow. Her hands slick with sweat, the bow dropped to the ground and she stuffed her fingers in her mouth to somewhat muffle her screams.

She fought for air as she sobbed. She struggled and felt like she was being strangled. Then she remembered what being strangled felt like and started to sob even more.

It was not that she didn't want the child. She wanted to hear someone's laugh again. She wanted a little one. But the thought of losing the child haunted her.

But that all changed when she told Peeta.

The way he smiled, laughed and the tears that pooled in his eyes reminded her of just how much he had been wanting to hear those two words. It settled the fear in her heart and she realized just how much this child would be loved.

Even Haymitch congratulated in his own way. Going on about how he couldn't wait to have a little Katniss Everdeen running around. (His words reeked of sarcasm, mind you.)

But Katniss had her heart set on a boy. A little boy that looked just like his father.

And when mornings were spent, not in bed, but in the bathroom, heaving into a toilet, Katniss became more and more thankful for Peeta's presence. He stayed closely by. Holding her hair and rubbing small circles on her back.

But she could tell he was enjoying the thrill of it all. He was just excited and Katniss couldn't blame him. Every night she curled into his form and his hand found the skin of her stomach. She smiled at this because she wasn't even showing yet, but he did it anyway.

And as the child grew, so did Katniss's and Peeta's love for the little one.

Katniss's nightmares had somewhat grown less violent. And Peeta's episodes had grew farther apart. All because of the child. The child gave Katniss a sense of security and Peeta an omnipresent sense of happiness that didn't affect his hijacked memory.

All in all, Katniss wondered why she didn't want a baby sooner.

And slowly, the child turned into a small bump. A small bump that Katniss learned to love. A small bump that she didn't mind showing.

A small bump that Peeta couldn't keep his hands off of.

A small bump that never met the world.

It wasn't anyone's fault. It just wasn't meant to be.

Peeta found Katniss unconscious in a pool of blood that was eerily similar to the pool of blood in the first arena. And as he picked up her limp form with shaky arms and rushed to the nearest healer, he knew that the news would not be good. That the one person he loved other than Katniss, he would never meet.

Katniss opened her eyes and instantly felt pain. But she also felt emptiness. A hollow. A ghost of what could have been. Should have been. Her hands crawled down to the small bump that was no more and silent tears fell down her face.

Husband and wife walked home silently. After Katniss being released finally. They held onto each other's hands like a lifeline. Blue meeting grey. Whispering a thousand silent words.

The second they were in the comfort of their own home, is when they both broke. When the pressure of everything that had happened was released.

Peeta scooped up Katniss and carried her up the stairs. She hung on to his neck and sobbed into his shirt.

She cried for the loss of her child. She cried for the loss of the little blond boy who would look like his father. She cried for the hollow feeling that was left inside of her. The joy she felt that had been ripped from her grasp.

But most of all, she cried for Peeta. Because he cried too.

"I'm sorry," played like a mantra throughout the large Victor's house. The walls echoed the words until they silenced and both of the weary Mellark's found sleep.

Later that week, they decided to put their unborn child's memory in the book. Katniss wrote down everything that she remembered feeling in her pregnancy. Joy. Fear. Security.

And she asked Peeta to draw a blond baby boy. In memory of what should have been.

* * *

_You were just a small bump unborn for four months then torn from life._

_Maybe you were needed up there but we're still unaware as why._

_Ed Sheeran - Small Bump _


	9. Chapter 9: Bread and Fire

Peeta exhaled heavily as he trudged through the winter snow. His breath fogged in the cold air and the wind was bitter. The blond young man soon stilled at the steps of his large Victor's house that he still occupied. He turned on his heel as a memory begged for his attention. Peeta didn't have many problems with his memories anymore; it had been almost 3 years since his time of torture and he was nearing the age of 21.

He watched as his memory showed him the image of two teenagers running into each other's embrace and falling into the snow. Sharing a kiss full of snowflakes. If a person completely oblivious to the exact threats looming over the two teenagers were to watch the scene unfold they would probably deduct that the two were lovers of some sort, but as Peeta watched the scene play out in his mind, he just felt a longing that had been settled in his heart since he was a small kindergartener.

Turning away from the exact spot of the memory, he slipped into the large house that Peeta only really used to paint or find a quiet place when his altered memories returned. Today he simply wanted to find a place to think.

He and Katniss had grown together in the last few years. Simple gestures became common for the two. At first, the two became like small children around each other when their skin would accidentally meet the other's. Or small glances that were short lived. But they were never like two teenagers sneaking away in the dark of night. No, nothing was ever normal for the two. Only did the barrier between them shatter to pieces when Katniss found herself wrapped in Peeta's embrace early one morning. The sun inching into the sky. From that night on, Peeta spent his nights warding off the nightmares with the only other person in the world that understood.

But the Capitol couldn't make him ever hate Katniss. They never succeeded in diminishing Peeta's love for this mysterious girl that laid in his arms every night. His hijacked memories never tainted his love for her. And he couldn't help but fall in love with her more and more everyday.

But he couldn't ignore the sadness that enveloped her dark eyes. The days of depression that left her dead to the world. But just like all the times she did it for him, his lips brushed over hers and he held her tight. Of course, there were real kisses they shared that were when neither of them were depressed, dying, or fighting haunted memories. Ones that made him fall so deep in love for this girl that he knew for sure she had done him over. Once again.

They had grown together in the most tragic way but so tightly wound around each other that they could never break loose.

The new memories they had created together completely erased the painful past ones. Peeta Mellark knew everything about Katniss Everdeen. Knew every button to push and every scar that marred her skin- those scars were beautiful to him - and where every freckle was placed on her body. And every fear.

But the reason he trudged to his vacant house to think, was in fact about Katniss and the future. Peeta had been skidding around the situation for weeks now. He couldn't think of anyone way to ask her. He wanted so badly to spend the rest of his life with her and make a commitment. But he kept getting his thoughts tangled and it turned into a web he couldn't untangle. So he made his way across the snow to the only person that he knew would be honest with him.

Peeta was met with the scent that was eerily similar to the first day of the Victory Tour. So similar that he was almost expecting to find a young 16 year-old Katniss perched on the window. But he shook his head, the real Katniss was in the woods today. He found his former mentor asleep in the main room. Bottles of liquor strung around the dark floor.

"Haymitch," Peeta said, trying to shake Haymitch out of his sleep. "Haymitch," he spoke a bit louder this time. And soon Haymitch came to, muttering and cursing his way into consciousness.

"What is it, boy?" There was an edge to Haymitch's gruff voice and Peeta knew he had agitated him but he didn't care at the moment.

"I'm just going to be straight forward and you just be honest," Peeta ran his fingers through his curls and paced slightly then turned back to Haymitch who wore a blank expression.

"Do you think Katniss," Peeta faltered, his anxiety getting the best of him. "would say. . .no if I asked her to marry me?" Haymitch stilled for a moment and then ruptured into a fit of laughter that made Peeta question why he came here in the first place. He finally stopped when he caught sight of the humiliation that was sketched into Peeta's expression.

"With the way she looks at you?" He laughed once more. "I highly doubt she would say no, kid." Peeta didn't even hesitate as he flew out Haymitch's front door in search of Katniss. Leaving a baffled and amused Haymitch to his own devices.

Peeta stopped in the middle of the road that lead into town and thought over his decision, thinking maybe he should wait for Katniss to return home before he went chasing after her in the woods, or maybe it was too soon for marriage. But his thoughts ceased as he saw Katniss coming around the bend. She waved her hand in his direction and smiled. His courage fleeting, he sped up to meet her halfway.

"What's-" Katniss sputtered as Peeta laid both hands on her shoulders, catching his breath he interrupted her.

"Katniss Everdeen, I've known since that day in kindergarten that you were the only girl I would ever love. And I've come to the realization that I can't live without you. Everyday I want you to be the first person I see when I wake up and the last when I go to sleep. I want you to be the one I come home to. I want you to be the one that gets upset when I leave flour on the counter and I want you to be the one that I hold when the nightmares get bad. And most importantly, I want you to be the one I grow old with." His hands had slid down to grasp her's and she stared back at him with a smile playing on her lips. "Katniss Everdeen, I love you and if you'll have me, I want to be the one that gets the honor to marry you."

"For real this time?" Katniss quipped. Her eyes shined and Peeta noted on how happy she really looked. Peeta chuckled and replied, "For real this time."

•-•-

It was a warm spring day when Katniss and Peeta had arranged for their toasting. The sun was shining brightly and the mockingjays were keeping the air alive with their melodies. Katniss was singing along with them.

She was truly happy. They both were. No, the Games or the war would never leave them but they could live the life they deserved. They were going to survive, because that's what they always did. They survived in their circumstances. And life had new meaning. Tonight they would carry on the tradition of their district. They would show to the dead Capitol that they were not pieces in their games; they never were.

Soon the spring day turned to dusk and Katniss and Peeta made their way to the backyard and Peeta started a fire. Katniss pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and planted herself on the last step. Watching the sunset. Katniss smiled.

Katniss watched the flames engulf the logs Peeta had split that winter. Fire usually brought bad memories of Prim or the Capitol but tonight, fire would have new meaning.

Peeta made his way over to the steps where Katniss was seated and she leaned into his form.

"Fire's ready," he said, holding a hand out for Katniss and leading her over to the burning logs.

As Peeta began to toast the bread that would signify their marriage, Katniss asked, "What is it about bread and fire with us?" Peeta chuckled and brought the toasted bread to her lips.

And just as burnt bread brought them together, it bound them together for the rest of their lives.


	10. Chapter 10: Sunsets and Kisses

**A/N: **Hi guys, sorry it's been so terribly long since I updated but I'm pretty stumped when it comes to writing these days. This is a fairly short oneshot, and I'm sorry about that. I wrote it because I was sick of not writing. Ideas/requests would be wonderful! Thank you.

-Joy

_So breathe in so deep_

_Breathe me in, I'm yours to keep_

_And hold on to your words 'cause talk is cheap_

_And remember me tonight when you're asleep_

_Because tonight will be the night_

_That I will fall for you over again_

_Don't make me change my mind_

**Fall For You – Secondhand Serenade **

The fire cackled in the hearth and the warm sound brought Katniss back from her thoughts. She often faded in and out of reality. Unraveling memories and fighting the ones that often brought the tears back to her eyes. For months, she hated fire. She hated the sound of it. The way it engulfed the logs to ash, and it reminded her too much of her sister. But she soon came to enjoy its calming sound after nights of insistence from Peeta that her house was too cold.

He looked after her. Made sure she ate and tended to the fire in the main room. Kept his distance, but even his distanced presence gave her a sense of security that she hadn't felt in months. She didn't ask about the hijacking. But she noticed that the deranged boy she saw in District 13 was not the boy who was caring for her now. Her Peeta's eyes were as blue as the sky itself and were not clouded with anger.

Silence became a third wheel to the relationship that they had created since the rebellion. Silence followed them everywhere.

She kept silent as the couch dipped at her side, and his warmth pulled her toward him, but she resisted.

When she often was left alone in her thoughts, she thought back to the urgency she felt when his lips met hers. She thought about those kisses that made her question her resolve. How she felt so much warmth throughout her body when he drew her to him. The way his arms fit perfectly around her waist. She wondered if he ever thought about it. If he loved her at all.

But everything was different now. They were fire mutts who had no family. Who were broken beyond repair and went to sleep knowing the second they closed their eyes they would be met with the same nightmares that had haunted them since they stepped out of that wretched arena. And Katniss would still awake from her nightmares, screaming, and instantly searching for Peeta's warmth, only to find the cold sheets.

She often wondered why she wasn't dead. What miraculously being brought her back to her home. But she wasn't home. She was brought to the same house that showed her the ghosts of two girls laughing. Blonde braids flailing around the smaller girl's shoulders and the taller, older girl laughing behind her as she chased her up the stairs. But when Katniss reached for the memory, it dissolved before her touch could reach it and she was left with a hollow pain in her chest.

Because Prim was all over that house. Prim was baking in the kitchen and Prim was sitting by the fire place. Prim was playing in the garden and Prim was doing her homework in the study.

Prim.

She was everywhere and Katniss could not fight her memory.

"Katniss?" She was brought out of her stupor by Peeta's warm hand on her shoulder. She turned her head in his direction and followed the stubble around his jaw to his eyes. How the fire reflected in them. How blue they were, it made her heart ache. Because those eyes had seen so much. They had seen so much death and pain and she instantly wanted take it all away but she didn't know how, so she nodded her head instead.

"Do you want to go on a walk? It'll be good for you to get some fresh air." She instantly perked up. Because the outside world was her escape, her haven.

"Okay." She whispered. Peeta smiled.

As soon as she met the fresh air, she felt better. Her thoughts cleared and she followed Peeta down the steps.

They didn't talk about the past much. They barely touched but as they walked down the winding road, her hands brushed his and she silently smiled. She wondered a lot what was going through Peeta's mind. How one who went through so much could smile. Could not only take care of himself but another human being. She wondered _why _he was even here with her. He could have stayed in the Capitol. Anywhere but coming back to poor District 12. But he did come back. He came home to her, for some reason Katniss could never understand.

She never could figure out what Peeta was thinking. He wore a mask that she couldn't reveal. He never talked about his nightmares, and she knew he still had them because how could they ever disappear? He just kept her company during the day and then excused himself at sunset.

His curls were as bright as ever and she smiled at that. The past peeked through sometimes, and she enjoyed it. He was still boyish and it brought her comfort.

But she missed the Peeta Mellark she used to know. And she wondered if he would ever show up again. The boy who smiled at everyone, even when they didn't give him a smile in return. The boy who didn't leave her alone to fight the demons in the dark all by herself. The boy who sacrificed everything for a girl he wasn't sure loved him at all.

Before she even realized, their steps had brought them to the meadow as the sun dipped into horizon. Oranges, yellows, and purples all mixing together to create a masterpiece that too quickly would disappear.

"It's beautiful tonight," Katniss heard Peeta say just above a whisper. She nodded in his direction and noted on how the sunset illuminated his crown of yellow hair and reflected in those blue eyes she wanted so badly to melt in to.

"Yeah, it is." Katniss confirmed. Watching the swirling colors fade into the sky.

"I missed the sunsets here. I could never see them in the Capitol." Peeta said his voice soft and far off, like he wasn't talking to anyone particular. Katniss suddenly felt bad for him, knowing that his time in recovery was probably anything but good.

"Do you still paint?" Katniss asked, clearer than all the others time she spoke to him. He turned his neck slightly and nodded slowly.

"Sometimes." He replied. Katniss didn't press, knowing he painted what he saw in his mind and his mind was a clouded, dark place. Full of terrors that filled her own mind.

Conversation was good. Conversation was what Dr. Aurelius wanted Katniss and Peeta to do. They both had questions that the other had the key to. Katniss knew that almost every question Peeta had swirling around in his confused mind, she had the answer to. He focused on details, he always had. The tiniest things most people would shrug off, Peeta wanted to know. Katniss remembered the day when they had guns strapped across their chests, killing time as Peeta asked his questions.

Katniss snapped herself out of her thoughts and focused on the sound of the fall wind rustling through the bare trees, and noticed she was shivering along with the breeze. Peeta took notice to this and began to shrug off his coat. He draped the coat over her shoulders and moved in front of her to fasten the button around her neck. Katniss smiled slightly as his bangs fell into his eyes and Peeta moved his head a slight amount. Nagging, in the back of her mind, Katniss saw this scene somewhere else, she knew. Her fogged memory brought up the image of two teenagers on a rooftop and she instantly remembered the night when Peeta lead her to the rooftop before their first Games. She got cold, and he gave her his coat.

Peeta began to draw away, the button fastened, his job complete, but Katniss caught his hand. She didn't know where such a bold movement came from, but she went with it. She searched his eyes carefully and only found the same blue eyes she had known a year ago. Yes, he was confused and disordered, but he was Peeta.

"Kiss me." Katniss's voice wavered, and her eyes found the ground. "Please." She brought her glance back up to his as many emotions fell over his features. Many she couldn't read. But she knew she felt like a coward as the seconds ticked by.

She was two seconds away from releasing his hand and apologizing when his lips met hers. It was a soft and delicate kiss. Peeta's hands rested on Katniss's waist and her arms found their way wrapped around his neck. She realized just how much she had missed him. Just how much this boy meant to her, how thankful she was that he was actually alive.

She had just _missed_ him. Katniss had always missed him. From the second his footsteps were heard disturbing the gravel next to the train tracks when he found out how confused she was, to the last day she had seen him.

Her insides began to scream both for the lack of oxygen and the fact she finally felt _something_. Something besides her screams trapped in her throat. Besides the drawstring on her bow snapping her when she couldn't focus. She was finally feeling something _good._ And she didn't want it to end.

Peeta was the first to break away, his forehead leaning on hers. She closed her eyes, willing the moment not to end. Begging fate to let this one moment of serenity to last for ages. Hadn't she given up enough to be granted just one moment?

Peeta shifted on his feet and these movements made Katniss open her eyes and look in to his. She smiled when she found his smile mirroring her own.

"I missed you." Katniss whispered.

Peeta offered her a small smile. "I missed you, too."


	11. Chapter 11: Setting Rage

_**A/N:**_ It's been a while! This oneshot is based on some scenes through out Catching Fire, told in third person point of view of Peeta. This is something I've been adding onto for the past few weeks so please forgive me if it's not that understandable. My writing style has taken some new turns (hopefully for the best!) and I'm still fiddling around with things, but enough about me, let's get onto the story. Feedback is always welcome! -Joy

_(P.S. there shouldn't be, but if there is, I apologize for spelling/grammar mistakes.)_

* * *

This oneshot was inspired by the song, White Blank Page by Mumford & Sons.

* * *

His heart pounded rapidly in his tight chest. Her screams bounced off the walls and jumped around the dark room as he shushed her and wrapped his arms around her small form. He watched her eyes leak; the water dripping down her cheeks, crawling down toward her neck. Her hand crumbled his shirt and her body shook in his arms.

It was these moments that he knew he was being selfish. That Katniss Everdeen was vulnerable and actually wanted someone there to comfort her and of all people he was the one there holding her against his chest.

But Peeta Mellark was also angry. An angry rage that set his jaw and made him feel pinned down and useless, because it was the Games and the horror that fed their nightmares. That made Katniss sob and cling to him for dear life.

But the selfish part of him rang through. The part that made him glance down at her broken soul in his arms and watch the rise and fall of her chest and how light she felt in his arms. The curve of her lip and that raven hair that fell in waves over her shoulders and down her back. That felt so silky under his touch.

The sun inched into the sky and illuminated the small contours of her face. The dried tears that tattooed streaks down her cheeks. The small part in her lips where her breathing came out steady and true.

Peeta Mellark was still sitting against the headboard with Katniss Everdeen still clinging to him.

But he knew she would wake. And she would thank him. Then go about the rest of the day like she did not spend all of the night clinging to his shirt front and sobbing into the crook of his neck.

No, she would go about her day drawing on a fake smile and kissing him like a true lover. She would hold his hand like he always wanted her to and act like she loved him.

And that only fed to his rage.

Not rage against her or in the act.

But rage with the horror.

Rage with himself.

For loving this mysterious raven haired woman who carried his heart around.

* * *

He wondered sometimes. When he would lay awake with her in his arms. Her breath crawling over his skin and disappearing into thin air.

_Am I at fault? For loving her?_

And so many times he wanted to shake Katniss from her slumber and wake her with his lips and hold her face in his hands. To know the truth; to follow it to its home. To find her gray eyes in the darkness and find acceptance there; find her answer shouting back at him and confirming everything he felt.

But he couldn't do that. Because Katniss Everdeen was fighting for survival. For a way out of this maze and that involved him holding her at night; receiving his attention but never his affection.

* * *

He fought with himself.

He daily would kick the dirt and scream. The swelling rage in his chest ripping through his flesh and rearing its ugly face.

The problem was he.

For giving up his all and getting nothing in return from the raven haired woman.

* * *

When she brought up the proposal, the rage returned. Because she wasn't thinking about what this did to him. She wasn't thinking about the anger that soared through his veins knowing there was nothing he could do to bind her free from this.

_She shouldn't have to do this!_ Peeta Mellark screamed to himself. His blood boiled under his skin and his fist hit the wall with a fury and found himself leaning against the door frame. Watching the sun fall into the darkness that engulfed it.

A bitter laugh bubbled in his chest when he compared his situation to that of the sun. Falling into a never ending darkness with no escape until the darkness fled and ran away from the light that engulfed it and hid until the sun was trampled by the it once again.

A never ending cycle.

A cycle of holding a woman in his arms at night that held his heart but another held hers.

A cycle of being stretched and manipulated and ripped of all dignity and privacy until there was nothing left.

His chest rose with a shallow, shaky breath.

* * *

He had his arm draped around her stomach and his chest to her back when he whispered in the darkness his agreement to the proposal. (_The fake proposal, _he corrected himself mentally.) Katniss sighed and he felt her head brush his jaw. Her fingers tighten around his.

It was those small moments of reassurance that shook him. The way she would curl into him at night or hold his hand. And the times she would lay her palm on his chest and sigh. A sigh that sent shivers down his spine and blurred his mind with questions. Questions that only she could answer but that he would never ask.

"Thank you." she whispered before her content breathing slowed and she fell into a slumber.

Another bitter, unreleased laugh jammed itself in his throat.

* * *

That day they spent throwing apples and laughing. That was the memory Peeta Mellark wanted to die with. When Katniss Everdeen's lips rose in a grin and she doubled over laughing. The way the sunlight casted its rays in her hair and made her seem heavenly. How she laid her head in his lap and he wound his fingers through her hair and felt more alive than he had in months.

Because there were no cameras. No fancy Capitol puppets pouncing around telling the couple when to kiss and how to dress and controlling them.

It was just Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark spending their last few days together. And spending those days acting like normal seventeen-year-olds. Because they didn't have that; they never got to sneak off in the middle of the night because they were so passionately in love. Or lie to their parents about where they were. Or spend early misty mornings at the old slag heap.

No, they were forced to put on a show for people who couldn't comprehend the fact two kids knew they were going to die and were willing to sacrifice all of those ahead years for each other because they knew no different.

Still, Peeta had those evil thoughts that could never come to pass. That the raven haired woman who laid in his lap, telling him a story about how she caught Prim and Rory holding hands, would be his. Because he knew if she was to live, he was to die.

* * *

We all know that Katniss wondered why Peeta stepped off that stage, reaching for her grasp with tears running down his cheeks.

Peeta Mellark was lost in his own world for many reasons.

Because the story he created he thought he would never come to pass.

He would never feel the swell of his child under the skin of the one he promised his life to. That he would die in that arena and never have the chance to hold his own life in his hands.

And the thought that haunted him the most walking down those illuminated steps reaching for the hand of the one who was forced to stand by his side and forced to subject herself to the horror of the Capitol, was that he finally became what they wanted.

The thought was shouted in his mind like a mantra: _A piece in their never ending game. _

Because they had stolen everything he ever wanted. And he stood helpless as he knew there was no return.


	12. Chapter 12: hearts of flesh

Sweat mapped across her olive toned skin as her mind fed her the images of hell. The screams of her loved ones afar, alone and afraid. Begging for their life as she wept helplessly in a tube of no escape. Where her screams echoed and left her ears buzzing. Where her friends and family spit on her; cursed her.

Her nightmares became so terrible that she was afraid to open her eyes at times. She would lie on those satin sheets—that were no comfort to her, like most would feel—and focus on her breathing. The sound of her heart rapidly thumping in her chest. Her pulse running circles in her head.

At those times she began to think. She would become so immersed in the sound of her heart beat she would try to decipher whether it was made of flesh or of stone.

Many times her mind settled on the latter.

The first night she lay listening to the stone in her chest, her eyes remained shut tightly. So tightly, in fear that the moment she allowed them to open her nightmares would become reality. That those satin sheets would really be swimming in blood and she would find herself in a place of no escape.

But her eyes opened in the darkness when a soft knock bled through the door. His voice cracked as it traveled through the heavy wood.

"Katniss," Peeta's voice was afraid; she could recognize it in a moment's time. But he wasn't afraid for himself, he was afraid for her, she knew that. She swallowed the lump in her throat threatening to choke her and found the handle of the door swiftly.

Her eyes adjusted to the hallway trains lights that shone so brightly and hovered over Peeta's face. His expression was broken; sad. She found his eyes and didn't see a 17-year-old. She saw a thousand years swimming in those blue orbs. A thousand years of death and nightmares of his own.

"Are they bad tonight?" He spoke softly, and she nodded while opening the door further and allowing him in. Her hand found the light switch and the room illuminated. His expression eased and so did her mind.

"They're getting worse, I think." She let out a bitter laugh and settled beside him on the satin sheets. Her arms wound around her knees that curled against her chest and she tried so terribly to block out the screams and listen to Peeta's breathing in the silence as he found words to say. He was silent for some time. His arms on his knees and his eyes trained on the floor beneath them.

"I hate hearing you scream out. It sounds too much like what I see in my nightmares." His voice was sad again. It was sad and heartbreaking and Katniss felt a deep sting of pain in her chest as his head dropped in agony. "I wish there was something I could do." He turned his head and met her eyes. "I walk up and down these halls every night, wondering how this is going to end. How we're going to walk away from this. Will we even get to walk away from this?" He was desperate and at his breaking point. He had seen an innocent man shot only a few days ago. He knew the threats that were hovering over them both.

Katniss reached out and clasped his intertwined hands. He took a deep breath as they sat in silence until her voice broke it. "We have to go through it," she found his eyes and held tight to his hands. "To get to the end of it." Her eyes watered at the memory of Greasy Sae and the omnipresent chance she may never see home again.

Peeta nodded and moved his right hand to intertwine with her left in between them. Her words pricked his heart and he found even more respect and desire for the girl beside him.

"It may be easier," He hesitated for a moment but knew better. "to sleep with each other. It could keep the nightmares at bay and we both need rest." He was almost afraid he would be thrown out for such an absurd suggestion for a pair of 17-year-olds, but they had not been their age in a very long time.

"Okay." Katniss confirmed. He watched her hand untangle from his and her body settle on the right side of the large bed.

Katniss was grateful for the suggestion, to be frank. Those sacred moments under that sleeping bag was always distinct in her memory. Those moments were when Katniss and Peeta connected in some odd, morbid way. Where Katniss felt something instead of hunger stabbing in her stomach. Where for the first time in years, she felt like she had someone that cared for her. And someone to care for, the exception of Prim of course.

Peeta paused, turned to cast a glance her way and then proceeded to untie his shoes. She noted how they were double-knotted. She added that to the list of small details she slowly was coming to find out about Peeta Mellark.

He climbed into the satin sheets with her and remained on his back. One hand on his abdomen and the other under his neck. Until Katniss turned into his side, her head resting on his arm and they finally found sleep.

She listened to his heartbeat as they drifted off. One that she knew for certain was made of flesh and not stone.

It became a ritual of sorts. For the couple to climb into satin with each other and listening to the echoes in the night. Riding this train that brought them new sadness every dawn.

Even as children they heard their parents gawk as they laughed through their words, "Love's blind." They always said. And as Peeta felt the warmth of her body ghosted over his, he understood the meaning behind those words. But he didn't quite understand why they laughed.

After all, he was still a child. Of some sorts.

Love is blind because you can't see the flaws of the one you love. Peeta couldn't see flaws in Katniss for anything in the entire world. Nor did she find flaws in him. All Peeta saw when blue met gray was courage and beauty. And the constant need to protect her.

Of course, why the elders laughed, I'm sure you already know.

Their nights were almost sacred. They were the only times they had time to really talk. Or to just find some kind of peace. Katniss memorized his heartbeat. She memorized it matching with hers. Felt the thumps in her body and his own.

The robotic, detailed voice spoke through the train, "Arriving in the Capitol."

The couple sighed. "Fun." Peeta retorted. Katniss laughed softly, curling her ankle over his.

"At least the food is good." Katniss remarked. Peeta chuckled through the darkness and his left arm tightened around her waist.

Some nights were good.

Some nights were also, terribly frightening.

One night in particular, Peeta woke to Katniss thrashing in pain. Her cries only matching the ones in his head. He reached out to grab her forearms and wake her as his heart grew afraid. As his heart also grew bitter toward the enemy that created this all.

Katniss woke to his constant reassuring as tears streamed down her face. She calmed as his arms wound around her body and he pulled her to his chest; his heart. She sobbed into shirt and focused on the beat that settled there.

"I'm okay," she would whisper. "I'm okay." she said it more for herself than him. She felt his chin brush her scalp as he nodded.

Calmness settled over them as Peeta's fingers lightly brushed over Katniss's arm; a sensation that Katniss had grown to enjoy.

Before Katniss could even register what it was that she was doing, their lips met. She almost laughed at how shocked Peeta was before he regained his senses and returned the kiss.

The rational side of her spoke out, telling her it was stupid to become even more attached to this boy. (Technically, her fiancé as of now.) Of course they were digging themselves in this hole even farther, but at this point that thought didn't cross Katniss's mind as her hands found their way around his neck and Peeta's hands traveled to cup around her waist.

With heavy breathing, Katniss paused and broke away, her hands sliding down to rest on his chest. Her forehead pressed to his, she leaned down and kissed him one more time, softly and chaste.

She nestled her way into the crook of his neck and his arms wrapped around her back.

These times were when she didn't worry about tomorrow nor did he. These moments were ones that were burned into her memory because she knew even if everything changed, this never would.

fin.


End file.
